how lucky they

that should have

been us,

three, sitting in the

courtyard, you being

fed by her,

me shooting

photos until the

battery died or the

camera card

was full.

instead, i watch

them through the sunglasses

that hide the

tears that flow,

flowing because i’m

writing about the

moment that



and there they

are, where we

should be,

enjoying a quiet

lunch together,

as a family

of three.

three we’ll never

be, but two,

yes two.

a family, but

not the one

i would have

taken for granted

if she

were here,

making you eat

your lunch while i

put the camera down

and checked my blackberry

for new messages,

just like that

guy over there.

i wanna tell him,

tell them,

how lucky they

are, but i don’t think

they’ll listen.

he’s too busy,

she’s too focused.

maybe i’ll write

this on a napkin

and drop it

on their table

on my way out

the door…

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